


A Menagerie of Masters

by LilacEnthusiast



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Episode: s04e17-e18 The End of Time, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Musical References, Short One Shot, Skiing, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacEnthusiast/pseuds/LilacEnthusiast
Summary: For a short while at the end of time, the Earth was entirely populated by humans transformed into replicas of the Master. One has to wonder what all those Master replicas not amassed into armies got up to before being returned to their original human selves.
Kudos: 5





	A Menagerie of Masters

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: The Master Disaster

An iteration of the Master shook himself, still dizzy from the transition from whatever lame human he used to be to his glorious Time Lord self. 

It seemed that he was in some sort of strange performance surrounded by quite a few other Masters dressed up like the Earth mammal known as a “cat”. How odd.

It took him a moment or so to realize that the Masters in the orchestra were continuing to play the sheet music in front of them. So, despite his confusion and the stage lights blinding the everloving shit out of him, the Master decided to be a bit spontaneous and continue whatever this bizarre human performance was.

“Ah well, the show must go on!”

About a dozen Masters in leg warmers, bodysuits, and furry wigs returned to their places on stage and continued to perform a show based on the lines and dance moves burned into the brains of their former human selves over the course of months of practicing. It seemed that the Master playing Mister Mistoffeles was incredibly acrobatic, although the same could be said for all the other Masters since they had the same bodies and minds now. For a moment, the Master looked offstage and saw another Master wearing headphones giving him a thumbs up and an encouraging grin. 

  
  


Upon finishing a truly heart-rending rendition of “Memory”, the Master bowed as hundreds of his doppelgängers applauded from the audience. A combination of the stage lights, excessive stage makeup, and furry costume left him rather overheated.

  
  


Even if he loved the praise from a giant crowd of himself, he swore off performing in a production of Cats for the rest of his presumably long life. He was honestly more of a dog person. Perhaps he’d develop a way to turn all cats into replicas of himself too, so that he could re-tool Cats into Master: the musical(™), and then the show could just be about The Drums(™) and the Master’s space adventures. The Doctor would, obviously, be played by a wet blanket.

One Master threw himself into the waiting arms of the audience of other Masters watching the performance, and began to crowd surf. He pumped his arms in the air and let out a scream.

“Can I get a MEOOOOOOW”

Most of the Masters in the audience looked at eachother, shrugged, and replied.

“MEOOOOOW”

The Master who had just finished singing “Memory” glared at the replica that had stolen his thunder.

“Shut up, Master”

A smug grin spread across the face of the crowd surfing Master, as he gave the other Master a one-fingered salute.

“Fuck you too, Master”

A Master in a rather snazzy looking suit clambered onstage holding a wobbly tower of trophies in his arms.

“Congratulations, Master, you just won every Tony award ever, even though this musical has already been on Broadway for years!”

Each Master onstage accepted multiple awards, bowing repeatedly and giving various acceptance speeches, most of which involved thanking the Master for all of his support. From across the theater a perturbed crowd surfing Master called out.

“Wait where’s my Tony award?”

The Master in the bedazzled suit picked up one of the left over trophies and threw it into the waiting arms of the crowd surfing Master. 

“Thanks for nothing Jackass-ters, I’m leaving and starting my own theater company!”

One of the Masters onstage put his hands on his hips and scoffed.

“Well, fine! Your insufferable ego was ruining the experience for everyone else!”

A scowl crossed the crowd surfing Master’s face, as he began to remove his wig and cat ears.

“We’re all the same guy. If I have an insufferable ego, so do all of you!”

The crowd surfing Master was then promptly dropped on the ground and booed out of the theater.

————

In another location, a Master in cargo shorts with socks and sandals on his feet adjusted his sunglasses and applied some more sunscreen to his face. 

Behind him were twenty other identical Masters playing volleyball with a jumbo inflatable beach ball in a swimming pool. Not too far away there was another Master wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron flipping hamburger patties on a grill. Another Master was eating from a large bowl of macaroni and cheese with his bare hands, splattering cheese everywhere.

The Master reclined on his beach chair and sighed, feeling the radiation emitted from this measly little dirt ball’s sun warming his fleshy body. If he closed his eyes for a moment and pretended the sky was orange, it was almost sunbathing on Gallifrey. Of course, nothing else in the universe could quite match what his homeworld was like.

Suddenly he was met by the sound of the straps pulled across the chair adjacent to him straining under the weight of someone unceremoniously plopping down upon it. That someone was most certainly Master-sized.

“Oh wow Master, you’re so intelligent, how do you do it?”

The Master turned to face the familiar voice that had just addressed him. With a borderline hysterical laugh, he whipped off his sunglasses.

“Well, Master, I’m just that amazing.”

The other Master snorted and bit into his snow cone without flinching, still staring into the Master’s glittering eyes. For a moment the Master realized that his eyes reminded him of slightly watery sunny side up eggs, but with a sort of brown-ish colored yolk. Not purple, like with normal eggs. Normal eggs had purple yolks, right?

The other Master’s teeth shone dully in the afternoon sunlight, stained red by the syrup from his snow cone, as he pulled his lips back to create a feral sort of grin.

“Oh please, do go on!”

“Well, it all started on the day I was born, it was a sunny summer afternoon on Gallifrey….”

All of a sudden, the two Masters noticed a particularly large group of Masters that had formed on the street across from them, seemingly burning the mail found in every mailbox on that particular street. One Master was quite enthusiastically doing the Macarena around the fire with an elated grin on his stubbled face. Over the course of a minute or so, numerous other Masters joined in, and they all did the dance in perfect unison. 

The other Master scarfed down what was left of his snow cone, ignoring the pain from his brain freeze, and tilted his head a bit to the side.

“Care to join them, my good friend, Master?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Master leapt out of his chair, pulled out a vuvuzela and chuckled.

“Oh, why not. It seems like it would be really fun, Master.”

————

The Master wiped his brow and sighed in exertion and relief as he looked at the wondrous fruits of his labors. 

There it was, a hot-tub filled with gently bubbling hot chocolate. After spending a moment basking in the glory of his creation, the Master noticed skiers and snowboarders rushing by. This Master was thankful that he was at a rather ritzy ski resort, and that he’d learned to ski in one of his previous regenerations.

Suddenly, another Master in a green jacket skidded to a stop and removed his skis and ski boots. He pulled his ski mask and goggles away to reveal a face flushed by the cold and a manic grin.

“Wonderful! I’ve always wanted to dunk myself into a fondue au chocolate.”

The Ski Master practically dove into the chocolate fully clothed. While the Ski Master swam surprisingly rapid laps in the chocolate, the other Master watched on, applauding his performance. Soon enough, he too jumped in, and they began an improvised synchronized swimming routine, laughing maniacally and grinning the whole time.

For a little while, the Master relished finally having a bunch (a planet’s worth) of friends who understood him, which was, well, a bunch of replicas of himself. He also found himself craving relish. Not on a hot dog, though. 

Relish and mustard heaped onto a strawberry cheesecake seemed absolutely scrumptious to him, for some reason...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
